Love for a Demon
by LeilaniLea
Summary: [Crowley/OC] A story birthed from a fan-girl's wet dream.
1. Author's Note

This is where my thoughts begin, and the story unravels within my mind.

Prior to 8 A.M. this morning, the fan girl in me worshipped Dean Winchester. Funny how one strangely realistic wet dream about a certain demon can change your heart strings to play a different tune.

After a full 30 minutes to analyze this new adaptation, I've come to a couple of conclusions even though I remain somewhat in denial.

Let's talk about Crowley. Now, as an avid fan and follower of the show Supernatural, my view of him has changed so many times that it could make my head spin, and possibly creepily and paranormally so. We've mostly seen uber demon-y Crowley and selfish conman Crowley. But, even with all of that, we've gotten to see more and more how broken he really is (and was while human-esque).

Given my own personality, that extremely NSFW dream, and my tendency to fall for broken things, I see Crowley in quite a different light right now. Simply put, Crowley craves companionship and adoration.

I will stray from the storylines of the show and introduce some occult lore of my own as this is not really part of the show, after all.

So prepare yourselves for a fantastic journey of NSFW Crowley/OC fanfiction.

**NOTE: The first chapter is in first person, and I've decided I don't quite like it that way. Chapter 2 is third person, and the rest to follow will be the same. I will be fixing Chapter 1 to third person in the next day or two. Bear with me, thanks. :)**


	2. Chapter 1

Panting and heaving, I turned the corner down another darkly lit corridor. My legs felt like rubber beneath me, and my lungs were desperately struggling to breathe. This whole "running for my life" thing was not something I ever thought I needed to prepare for. Fuck those idiots that got me into this mess! I didn't even know where I was anymore. _Abandoned hospital or basement, maybe?_ Every decrepit corridor looked the same, dim, damp, and clammy with doors aligned alongside the left wall. There was no other way to explain it other than, well, creepy.

Out of breath, I decided to re-strategize; there was no way I could run anymore. I started to jiggle the handles of the rooms down the corridor I was in. _Locked, locked, locked_. Crap, I am going to die for sure tonight.

To my luck and surprise, the fourth door swung open with no give at all. I glanced around to the best of my ability with the lack of light. It was a small office of some sort. Cluttered and disorganized, but clearly used frequently and recently. Regardless, it gave me time and a moment of reprieve. I quickly made my way around the filing cabinets adjacent to the door and crawled underneath the desk.

_So tired._ And, that's the last thought I had before I passed out…

I woke to the sound of the doorknob turning and the light flickering on ominously. I heard the click-clack of footsteps entering the room and held my knees to my chest, struggling to keep my immense desire to cry under my breath. I guess it made no difference, though. The man that had entered the room, circled the desk, and pulled back the chair that shielded me as if to sit down. His eyes instantly locked onto mine in a manner that caused my heart to beat even faster. The brief surprise in his face quickly changed, and his lips curled into a mischievous smile.

"Hello, pet."

_Fuck_. Now, I'm definitely screwed.


	3. Chapter 2

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" he sneered.

She trembled at the sound of his voice; it was merciless with a hint of disgust at the mere sight of a human. He must've been one of the demons that she was supposed to be running from according to Sam and Dean.

Struggling to keep her resolve, she felt the silent tears fall down her cheeks involuntarily. If she had to die tonight, she might as well die without a fuss. No point in fighting something that had far more strength and power than her.

"Mousy little thing, aren't you?"

She kept her silence as he hovered over her. _What was the point in saying anything when I was about to die?_ She thought to herself.

"I'm feeling pretty benevolent today… So, your torture will be short."

He deftly grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her to her feet, and threw her onto the chair. Before she could even process what had happened, he snapped his fingers, and a rope coiled around her upper body binding her down. He leaned down then, and yanked the nametag from her shirt. She winced as the cotton t-shirt she had worn to work earlier that day tore and the needled point of the pin scratched the upper part of her breast.

"Leilani…Pretty name."

He snapped his fingers again, and Leilani watched as the cheap piece of plastic turned into flames and dissipated without a trace.

His eyes found her frightened gaze then, and wandered down to the blood droplets forming along the small laceration on her chest. For a moment, it seemed as if he waivered from his menacing demeanor. But, the flicker in his eyes was brief as he produced a small terrifyingly notched knife from the inside pocket of his black suit. He laid it out on the desk, and removed the red handkerchief from his lapel and stuffed into her mouth.

"No screaming, love. I wouldn't want my idiotic cronies to know we're here. You stumbled upon my little sanctuary away from them. And, wouldn't like to be disturbed." he whispered, brushing his lips against her ear.

She shivered at his words and the delicate feeling of his skin touching hers.

He ran finger across the trail of blood then, and brought it to the tip of his tongue.

"Not bad. In fact, you taste...Different."

By this point her mind was completely spinning. Not only would she be killed, but apparently eaten alive.

"Well, I know your name. I suppose it would be rude of me to not introduce myself. You're pretty little doe eyes are feasting on the one and only King of Hell. Crowley, for short." He said laughing, as if he had just made a jest.

She grimaced at the thought of her luck. Not only did she have to come face to face with a demon, it had to be the demon that controlled all the other demons. The motherfucking King of Hell...

He looked at her and laughed as if being able to read her mind.

"Self pity party, there?" He smiled mischievously as he touched my cheek gently. "Don't worry, love. It'll be over before you know it."

Crowley stepped back, removed his suit jacket, laid it on the table, and picked up the knife. He turned around then with his back to her. Crowley let his face relax briefly in reflection of his thoughts as he played with the sharp edge of blade. He couldn't understand his hesitance. He had tortured and taken so many lives, why was this one so different. There was just something strange about this human. Her aura was off, and her blood tasted different. It was human, but laced with something else. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on...

He struggled with his own indecision. He NEEDED that high from human blood. But, she wasn't quite human and he couldn't tell what she was. Why was he faltering?! Angry with himself, Crowley turned around abruptly and slapped Leilani across the face.

She looked at him with surprise as her mouth pull. She had mentally prepared herself for torture under his knife. But, a slap? Well... that just seemed so...human.

"I guess you're lucky, dear." He sneered. "I've decided to let you live."

And, with that, he disappeared from the room in a snap of his fingers.


	4. Chapter 3

Crowley paced the floor of his decadent bedroom. Unable to understand the situation at hand he had gone back to Hell to find solace. However, the solitude had made him more anxious and uneasy.

He had tortured so many. He had killed countless innocents. But, he, the KING of Hell, was uncertain over a petite woman he could snap in half with his pinky? Just the absurdity was baffling! And, that over a gut feeling and a taste of her blood...

_I must be getting soft. Bloody moose and his stupid demon cure!_

Really, though. How was she not human, but human just the same? And, he was SURE of that fact. There was something more to that girl. Crowley needed to know what.

He stopped mid-stride and turned to the crystal decanter to pour him another scotch. He knew couldn't keep her in that office for long, especially if he wanted to find out everything he wanted... no, NEEDED to know about her.

She had consumed his mind since the moment he let that drop of blood touch his tongue. There was next to nothing that Crowley didn't know when it came to non-human entities. Why was she unregistered with him? Furthermore, Crowley sensed a darkness in her aura. Not an evil sort, rather the sort Moose and Squirrel gave free passes to, the non-threatening evil things.

Regardless of it all, he had to make a decision, and make it soon.

Leilani blinked back the tears forming in her eyes once more. It had been hours since Crowley had left her bound and gagged to the chair. Her throat was severely parched, and she still had the metallic taste of her own blood with in her mouth. She knew her life had been spared, but the waiting game was starting to feel worse than death.

Crowley appeared then, this time somewhat disheveled in comparison to his prior appearance. His tie was now gone, and his gray dress shirt untucked and unbuttoned slightly. His demeanor suggested he was a man exhausted.

He said nothing as he walked up to her, and removed the piece of cloth from her mouth. Taking a step back, he snapped his fingers making a small tray of cheese and fruit appear on the desk. He snapped them once more ushering a jug of ice water, a bottle of red wine, and glasses.

He continued his silence as he poured a glass of water for her and a glass of wine for himself. He lifted the water to her lips, and waited patiently as Leilani eyed him tentatively.

"Drink. No tricks. Just water."

She sipped from the glass unable to withhold her dire thirst. She spoke to him for the first time then.

"Thank you."

Her voice had somehow remained calm despite her jumbled mind. The time alone had given her a new heightened resolve that hadn't existed before.

Crowley cracked a smile. In fact, his smile was not cruel this time; it was genuine and with clear amusement. He bent forward grabbing his knife that still lay on the table adjacent to them.

Leilani's heart fluttered slightly at the sight. Maybe he had changed his mind again. Her fear must've shown through her eyes, because Crowley shook his head as if to say no and assuage her that neither torture nor death were on the agenda. He circled behind her and sliced through her bindings in one swift movement.

_Wait... was she free? _

She squinted suspiciously at her captor, unsure of what was happening, or what was about to happen. She felt like she was playing the Minotaur's game now, feigned freedom into a maze of deceit.

Crowley circled back around and perched on the desk, pushing the tray of food forward with a careless flick of his wrist.

"Eat" he commanded as gently as he could muster with his gravelly voice.

Unable to ignore the hunger pangs, Leilani did as she was told. It wasn't long before she devoured the treats he had offered her. She glanced back up for the first time since she began her meal, only to see Crowley sitting opposite her in an armchair identical to the very one she sat on.

He casually sipped on his wine with one ankle propped across the knee of his other leg. Seeing her look at him, he waved his hands and indicated her towards the wine glass now within her reach. This time Leilani faltered. _Inebriation doesn't seem like the best idea at the moment..._

Chuckling, Crowley stood up to disappear once more leaving her to own devices.


	5. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the delayed update story followers! Just battled through a cold, and finally got around to writing again. I have yet to fix up Chapter 1, but I'll get to it; I promise!**

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><p>Crowley knew that all he was doing was mentally breaking the girl, but truth was that he didn't know much else. Torture was second nature to him. Prior to Sam and Dean's "curing a demon" stunt, he had nothing but centuries of demonization. Even before to that, when Crowley was still human, he had had very little normal emotions. He came from a broken home, and produced a broken home for his own family.<p>

He had to get a grip on his feelings now. He felt disgusted with himself. Pity, remorse, pain, so many unnecessary emotions that he had no need for. When Crowley had come across that delicious little morsel in his private den, he yearned only to drain her of her blood for a quick fix. He had warded that office from his own kind to give himself reprieve and a little sanctuary where he could indulge in his newly found guilty pleasure of human blood. But, then the minx had to go and taste different…

Now his human side and demon side warred on what her fate would be. As a demon, he needed to know what she was to see if she could be of any use to his self-made empire. But, his human side wanted to know more about her and why she had been so resilient. She wasn't broken, but she clearly had been before. This wasn't her first time down the road of torture or life-threatening dread and terror.

Really, fear was inevitable in her situation, yet she still had a sort of defiance in her that he admired and respected. Despite her spirit, Crowley sensed an unusual kindness in her. She had known when to give in to her own needs and be grateful when offered basic necessities. All he really wanted to do at that moment was to decipher the puzzle that was Leilani. After all, Crowley was a businessman. He enjoyed taking complex situations and turning them around for his benefit. That truth was recognized by angel, hunters, and demons alike. Unfortunately his emerged humanity was clouding his judgment. It was a high that he didn't know how to shake. The demon in him wanted to break her and see how far he could torment her.

Deciding it was time to go check on his little mouse, Crowley ventured back to her prison only to find her asleep sprawled across the office chair. Oddly enough, she looked provocative. Her shirt still remained torn from the night before, and her once snug shorts had become looser overnight and crept up her thighs beautifully. He stood there in silence, taking in the sight before him. The wine bottle he had brought her previously now lay empty on the desk, next to the bare food platter. Nothing else looked different from other than that. He smiled at the thought of her not being able to resist the temptation. Usually, he faced the threat of unbound prisoners trying to escape, or trying to kill themselves. But, no, she just wanted to get drunk; a clear sign that drinking to escape her problems was not a new behavior. A slight twinge of sadness struck Crowley, then. He could relate.

One thing for sure, it was time that he relocated her to somewhere where she would have a little more free reign but still be his captive.


	6. Chapter 5

**This is going to be a longer chapter than the rest. I wanted to go ahead and post what I've written, but consider it Part 1 of Chapter 5. Part 2 will be posted next week.**

**I haven't decided if I'll separate the next bit of writing into a separate post or if I'll update into this chapter. (I guess I'll decide next week!)**

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><p>Leilani woke up to find herself in a luxurious bed. Smiling, she pulled the covers up to her neck and snuggled into the warmth. She felt happy and safe. Groggily, her mind grasped at the absurdity of the situation. <em>Wait… what? Where am I?<em>

She quickly pulled off the covers and sat up, sighing in relief to find herself in her original, yet torn and dirty, clothing. Had she been rescued? Her initial panic began to subside as she glanced around the room. This was someone's home. Much like the comforter that had been placed upon her, everything was crimson red and a charcoal grey with slight gilded accents. Two antique sconces provided just enough light within the otherwise dark room. Some would've called the dark tones and lack of light macabre, but, as a struggling artist, Leilani loved somber color palettes. Mahogany furniture completed the perfection of the simplistic yet exquisite taste of the decorator. There were no windows, but two doors. One that was slightly ajar, providing a glimpse to a bathroom, and the other she assumed was the door leading to the rest of the house.

She rose from the bed and began to walk around to examine everything a little more. There was a set of clothing laid out for her upon the dresser, complete with undergarments. Leilani picked them up and held them to her body. Perfect fit. She draped them across her forearm and made her way to the bathroom. Shampoo, conditioner, soap, a robe, a set of towels, everything was laid out neatly on the bathroom counter. Someone had clearly made an effort to keep her comfortable. Even though she had no idea where she was, she saw no reason to feel alarmed. A shower and a change of clothing would do her good.

The clothes that were left for her were exactly her style. Dark denim clung to her shapely hips, and a simple black v-neck adorned her torso. She looked at herself in the mirror one last time and ventured out into the hallway. Across from her room was another door to what she assumed was another bedroom. One end of the hallway was a dead end and the other leading to what seemed to be a foyer. She stood in front of her door, and debated her next move. She heard faint rustling coming from the room across hers, and curiosity began to plague her.

She didn't know what she would find beyond the door, yet she thought she would appreciate another person's company in such unknown territory. Maybe that person had been rescued like she had. _Safety in numbers, right?_ Apprehensively, she knocked on the door. _No response._ She waited a brief minute more and turned the doorknob.

Crowley had heard her delicate little tap on the door, and chose to ignore it. If she heard his voice, she would recognize it and immediately run. He had just taken a burning hot shower, and was still scantily clad with a white towel wrapped around his waist. He walked into his closet and perused through his opulent wardrobe. She would have to wait until he was done with his morning routine. Hearing the door open, he cursed under his breath_. Inquisitive little thing._

"Hello?" Leilani murmured weakly.

Making a rapid decision, Crowley shut the door to the bedroom and locked it with his abilities. He didn't need her running about his home in fear or in search of weapons. Leilani jumped at the sudden movement of the door, and looked around the room startled. Crowley stood at the edge of his closet and watched her from the shadows before stepping forward.

"Hello, darling. Sleep well?" he muttered annoyed.

Panic flooded Leilani's brain. _WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?_

Crowley continued to lazily speak to her, "Sit down on the bed while I finish dressing, and then we'll talk. Capiche?

She reluctantly obeyed. It wasn't as if she had any other option. Feeling a slight moment of reprieve, her eyes wandered down from his face to his body. His suits clearly hid what was a surprisingly athletically built chest. His broad shoulders were followed by exquisite biceps and strong powerful forearms.

He chuckled, "Enjoying your view, dear?"

Embarrassed, she felt her cheeks grow warm and looked away. Crowley turned around, dropped his towel, and walked back into his closet to finish getting dressed. Despite her mortification, she couldn't help but look at his perfectly muscular round ass as he walked away from her.


End file.
